


Feel Something

by wckxdwxtchr



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geraskier, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Panic Attacks, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23988070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wckxdwxtchr/pseuds/wckxdwxtchr
Summary: Jaskier is left alone while Geralt is on a contract and has a bad panic attack that greatly messes with him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 209





	Feel Something

**Author's Note:**

> Hi you guys! I hope you enjoy my Geraskier one-shot! It took me awhile to finish, but I’m so glad it’s finally done!

The last thing Jaskier expected was needing Geralt so desperately. Especially not while he was having a panic attack, but here he was. 

Jaskier was scrunched over and crying. His thoughts were a scattered mess and it only made the situation worse. He could barely catch his breath. It made him feel like he was being attacked by the djinn all over again. Shakily, Jaskier willed himself to stand. 

Geralt. He needed Geralt. 

Jaskier opened his mouth to call for him, but nothing came out. Jaskier was alone - mouth gaping open like a fish as he tried and tried to force words out. Finally, a scream erupted from his lips, inevitably forcing his shaky body down to the earth. 

The bard had no way of knowing if he was heard or not. He just had to wait—crying and helpless—he would wait. He just hoped that his scream wouldn’t attract anything other than Geralt. 

He still had ballads to write about his companion. He refused to be mauled before any of them were heard by the public. He also refused to die before Valdo Marx. The damned bastard would probably be laughing at the sight of Jaskier cowering in fear. 

The bard was never one to be on high alert, but now was one of those times where he was. He feared for his life more than anything right now. Geralt had left him in the middle of the forest to complete a contract. Jaskier wasn’t even sure if Geralt would return. 

The thought of Geralt never coming back sent another wave of panic through the bard. What would he do if Geralt died? He would be alone. 

Jaskier internally cursed himself for not being awake to ask Geralt what the extremity of the contract was. Jaskier wasn’t paying attention at the time when the stranger had explained what his contract was. 

All the possible scenarios of Geralt’s demise flooded his head and made his current panic attack much worse. 

He could barely comprehend what was going on around him. He heard leaves rustle as his impending doom approached. Jaskier began to cry harder at the sight of it draw close at a fast pace. 

Instead of facing the sheering pain of his fate, he found himself being welcomed by two strong arms. The pungent smell of blood and guts filled Jaskier’s nose as he was lifted and pulled close to his captor’s chest.

“Jaskier, calm down. It’s alright. Breathe.” 

That voice. 

“G-Geralt!” Jaskier whimpered, clutching onto his friend for dear life.

“Yes. It’s me. What happened? Tell me.”

“I thought.. Ah.. Uh, well, I thought you were dead. I imagined all these scenarios with you.. dead.”

“Jaskier—“

Jaskier looked up finally to lock eyes with Geralt and his blood ran cold at what he saw. Geralt’s eyes were sunken in and three deep slashes scarred his face. Blood was dripping down his face and off his chin into the bard’s lap. 

Jaskier felt his heart drop at the sight of his friend. He shot up immediately and stumbled backwards away from Geralt. His breath quickened as he watched Geralt slowly begin to stand. 

“Stop, Geralt, stop!” Jaskier cried and scoot himself back more, a hand quickly flying up to block his face from the approaching Witcher. He felt the cold, hard embrace of wood press against his back and he knew it was over. Jaskier had nowhere to run. 

There was no use in running. Jaskier would never be able to outrun Geralt. His demise would be brought by the one he loved dearly. It was definitely a poetic way to go, he would admit that. What better way to die than poetically? 

Each lumbering step Geralt took sent a jolt down Jaskier’s spine. He locked eyes with Geralt, looking at him like a deer in headlights. Jaskier was paralyzed with fear. 

“Please, Geralt, don’t. I-I love you! Please!” The bard gasped out, soon followed by a harsh sob that violently shook his body. “Geralt I know you don’t want to do this, please. I-I don’t know what’s happened to you, but please!” Jaskier looked to his left at his lute. 

Could he hit Geralt over the head with it? No. He could never bring himself to hurt his friend, but he realized his safety came first. 

He scooted himself over to his lute and tightly grabbed hold of it before pushing himself all the way up. The bard’s body trembled as he stood staring into Geralt’s dark and empty eyes. He didn’t want to do this. The last thing Jaskier would ever want to do is hurt Geralt. 

Slowly, Jaskier brought the lute up over his head, readying himself to strike Geralt. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the impact the lute would have on Geralt’s head. Quickly, hoping to get it over with, the bard cast the lute down expecting to hear a loud crunch. 

The bard frowned. Nothing. He heard nothing. 

“Jaskier, stop! Look at me.” Geralt spoke softly. 

“No- it’s not going to be you. I’m not falling for it.” 

“Goddamn it, Jaskier, open your damn eyes!” Geralt growled. Finally, Jaskier willed himself to open his eyes. He didn’t see a monster in front of him like before. He saw Geralt. The real Geralt. He was holding tightly onto the lute meant to hurt him. Jaskier slowly lowered the lute to the ground, tears beginning to form in the bard’s eyes. 

“Geralt, oh Geralt—“ Jaskier breathed softly, feeling the tension begin to fade.

“Hush. It’s alright.” Geralt hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I don’t know what you saw, but whatever it was, it won’t hurt you.”

“It was.. you. Geralt, I saw you.”

Jaskier watched as Geralt’s expression softened. 

“What do you mean you saw me?” 

“You were some monster. You had three deep scratches trailing down your face and your eyes were black. Your eyes were sunken in.” Jaskier frowned and looked away. “I was having a panic attack.” 

Geralt’s expression fell, lips parting slightly. 

“You were scared.” Geralt suggested. “For me?” Geralt’s eyes flicked down to Jaskier’s lips for a split second. 

“I’m just glad to see you safe.” Jaskier breathed out softly. His lower lip began to quiver. “If you’d never come back, well, I’d have no idea what to do.” 

“What you were seeing and feeling, Jaskier, was not real.”

“Then make me feel something real. Please.” 

The bard’s words were soft - almost inaudible, but Geralt heard them. 

Geralt had never noticed how beautifully shaped Jaskier’s lips were. He found them intriguing. They were perfect. He smirked softly and used both hands to grab at Jaskier’s doublet, yanking him in for a rough kiss. Geralt admired the soft yelp that left the bard’s lips as he pulled him in. 

The kiss was passionate. Geralt refused to let go of Jaskier’s doublet until he pulled away. 

“Geralt I-“ Jaskier flustered, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “That was definitely real enough for me.”

Geralt stayed silent, only smirked and turned away. He grabbed his sword and the head of the Griffin he was sent for. 

“Come on, Jaskier. Let’s go. I don’t want them getting away with the coin I’m owed.” 

“Geralt of Rivia faces off against a mighty griffin! Oh, I need to start this NOW!” Jaskier rushed over to Geralt. “How the Witcher faced the griffin the size of a mountain!”

“Jaskier.” Geralt warned softly.

“Fine, fine! The size of TWO mountains!”  
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Oh, fine. A normal sized griffin.” Jaskier grumbled, lifting himself up behind Geralt’s spot on Roach.


End file.
